


Of Fake Burns and Dark Rooms

by SprungSick



Series: Species: M. putorius [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: "wait it's not beta read?" "never was", Abuse, Angst, Dehumanization, Dream isnt a good guy in this one /smp, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I meant to write fluff then o o p s, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Just very very angsty, Manipulation, Not Beta Read, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sensory Deprivation, They may not be related by blood but damnit they can still look out for each other, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprungSick/pseuds/SprungSick
Summary: Life, despite not being close to perfect, had been getting better than it had in months. With a parental figure - slightly distant, unintentionally intimidating - a retired warrior - whose presence occasionally left dust coating his tongue - and a ghost - with the face of a man who haunted his distant dreams - as his compromising company, he could push everything aside and enjoy what he could get.They were very nice. They didn't care about his ears.A chance encounter sends him stumbling a million steps back.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Species: M. putorius [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087322
Comments: 131
Kudos: 1167





	Of Fake Burns and Dark Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dehumanization, Abuse, Self-Harm (Not very descriptive, but be safe) 
> 
> This was going to be an angsty +1 to a 5+1 fic I had for this au, but then my motivation struck zero so oops
> 
> I honestly wanted a much lighter tone for this series;;; I might make this not-canon to the au lol-

Dream was right there. 

He stared, pickaxe frozen in his trembling hands as the levity of the situation donned on him. 

“Tommy, I thought I told you that you couldn’t go into the Nether.” 

The words were airy, breezy - they drifted into the air to distract him from Dream’s confident step forward. He spread his arms out - as if to render himself vulnerable for a hug - and blocked off more of his only exit. 

Blistering heat pressed in. Strangely, existing in the depths of the hottest realm did little to warm his petrified cold. 

Clinging onto what little movement he could create, he licked his lips. “You told me a lot of things, Dream. You’re- you can’t control me, or where I go.” 

Dream chuckled, the armor on his legs pleading as it moved. “It’s true, I can’t control you. I can’t make you do anything. I never have been.” 

Pulse roaring in his ears, he wished he had equipped himself in any sort of way. All he had consisted of small explosives, a pick, and his own crumbling wits. 

“Tommy, I think I’ve indulged in this little fantasy you’ve been playing out,” Dream easily jumped over a stray patch of burning rock. “I know Techno is fun and all, but I can’t keep letting you convince yourself that he’s on your side.” 

“He is on my side,” He insisted shakily, unsure as to where his previous resolution went. Recent memories slipped away from him like water, dissolving in the sweltering heat with each crunch of Dream’s boots. 

“Is he though?” 

Tommy opened his mouth and closed it. Vaguely, he realized that he couldn’t feel his limbs. 

“Tommy,” Dream laughed disbelievingly - the sound paired well with snapping fire. “Techno is an anarchist, a blood-thirsty madman who puts himself above everything else. You don’t think that he actually likes you, do you?” 

He forced his words out and tried to stop the sensation of being submerged. “But- but- you sided with him. You sided with him, and- and you’re a bad guy!” 

“If I’m a bad guy, then what does that make Techno?” 

His mind blanked. Each thought - even something menial, unimportant - took scrambling up a hill to complete. No matter what nerve he pulled at, what muscle he screamed at to move - he stayed frozen; it seemed that his still state pleased Dream, his careless strides lengthening and head bouncing slightly as he walked. 

“Come back to me Tommy,” Dream murmured, now only a lunge away from imprisoning him in his grip. “You know I’m the only one that ever cared about you. That ever will. I know I- scared you, let’s say- but I only did that because you broke my trust. You know how much I hate having my trust broken.” 

“You’re a manipulator. You’re evil,” Tommy whispered. He didn’t know if he truly believed what he said. 

“And you’re untrustworthy. You’re unlovable, you’re useless, you’re a pain,” Dream bit back, the words puncturing deep into his chest. 

He couldn’t control the way his face contorted, didn’t know the way he curled in and broke. All he knew was the unblinking mask only inches from his face. 

“I take care of you well, Tommy, especially for someone so toxic to others. I’m the only one who can handle you. And I’m the only one who you can ever truthfully call your friend.” 

A dark, numbing veil draped over his head in time with Dream’s outstretched fingers. 

“These are new,” Dream mused, touching his open ears with bone-chilling lightness. “Makes sense, I guess. Who would’ve thought that the kid who acts like a pest actually was one?” 

Tommy flinched sharply, the fingers in his hair bowing his head for him as he struggled to breathe. The tightness in his chest compounded with each passing second, the weight on his mind growing - the small, already-distant voice telling him to resist seemed to fade under the strain. He forgot that he could open his mouth. 

Dream eased his pickaxe down with his free hand - he couldn’t tell whether he took it or not. “So, what are you? Are you a raccoon? A rat?” 

“A ferret.” He couldn’t hear his own voice. 

“A ferret,” Dream chuckled humourlessly. “Yup, just a little pest. But that’s alright, I can handle a pest. You just have to work with me, okay? You and I will just have to compromise on a few things, got it?” 

In his vision, he could only see Dream’s chest. Cold folded into his lungs, his back, his eyes. 

“Come here. Let’s get you home.” 

Dream gently - infuriatingly gently, something he couldn’t hear screamed - grabbed his wrist. When he began to move out of his tunnel, back to a destroyed portal with ruined bones for a bridge, Tommy followed. 

He didn’t remember why he ever took off his hat. 

*** 

“Tommy, stop talking.” 

Tommy’s head shot up before he quickly lowered his eyes to the grass. He shook slightly, the only thing in his sight rough grass and an armor-clad thigh - Dream had told him on the first day back that he didn’t like to be looked in the eye. 

Hesitantly, he opened his mouth to ask why. A glove slammed into his lips just as spiking cold impaled his shoulders. 

“No no, don’t talk,” Dream tutted, his fingers flexing painfully against the skin on his cheeks. “Pests don’t talk, do they? They just squeak and be a nuisance.” 

He nodded his head through his curled shoulders, nails twisting in the grass. 

“Good. I’m very happy that I won’t have to listen to annoying squeaking all day.” 

A shard of hope cut into his chest - from the past few days, he learned that a happy Dream meant he would be granted a few fleeting touches. With nothing to do besides sit and wait for Dream’s short visits, he cherished every scrap of food and every sliver of stimulation. Something cried for him to not feel grateful over something so small, cried that he could take matters into his own hands and run north. 

He remembered his first day, when he tried to mine and gather his own supplies. The sharp, harsh slam of his body against the ground had faded into a pleasant tingle. 

Dream seemed content to stay in silence, which meant he was as well - he pushed down the itching static poking so hard it hurt. 

“You know, I’m feeling pretty generous today,” Dream said finally. Desperation swarmed inside him, clogging his throat and stinging his eyes. 

“Come here. Let me hug you.” 

Tommy scrambled eyes-down into Dream’s open arms, his hands feather-light against metal as he burrowed just the amount that Dream allowed. He felt his back arch fluidly underneath Dream’s firm arms, melting so as to limit the amount of space between them. A slimy lightness coated the inside of his mouth - it covered everything, really, in its just-off imitation of comfort and safety. He desperately pretended that he liked it. 

Dream breathed slowly, his exhales displacing the strands of hair atop his head. The pads of his fingers dug into his back.  
“You’re so lucky,” Dream sighed, pressing harder into his spine. “To have someone like me. Someone to handle you. Someone that can give you what you need. You’re so helpless on your own, without me.” 

He nodded into Dream’s chest, ignoring the way it displaced his insides. 

“You’re very nice, you know, when you listen to me. I like it.” 

The praise washed over him, sticky - it did nothing to assuage the buzz freezing into his bones. 

A growing part of him felt grateful nonetheless. 

*** 

He quietly stared at the small block Dream called his new home, the trembling ice in his arms alleviating only slightly with his scattered twitches. 

“I don’t want you to get lost while I’m away,” Dream explained, a careless hand searing against his shoulder. “That little tent didn’t have nearly enough protection against mobs. You also tend to wander, which you know I don’t like.” 

Numbly, he walked into the windowless structure. Tall enough for him to stand. Too small for him to pace. 

“I’ll let you out when I come over,” Dream continued. “Think of it as some outdoor time. I’ll take you out, feed you, and we can spend some time together. Then, when I need to head back, I can leave you in here where you’ll be safe.” 

Like a pet. 

Disgust shuddered against his jaw, battling furiously against the static threatening to burst through his skin. He felt wars rage inside him, emotions he couldn’t place near-overwhelming - on the outside, he nodded his head. 

A door creaked closed behind him, followed by blank darkness. For not the first time, he wanted to explode. 

*** 

He was so lucky to have Dream. 

The words played dully in his head, repeating over and over in the small space between belief and disbelief. 

Dream gave him his leftover carrots. Dream gave him touch and the sun when he never had to. Dream gave him his beanie all those years ago when he didn’t know to hide himself - from everyone who wasn’t Dream, of course. 

He was so lucky to have Dream. 

He had no one else to look over the scratches in his skin from when he couldn’t bear to keep it on. He had no one else to cradle his head when he slammed it against the wall in an attempt to make it think. He had no one else to help pull at his hair when he needed something, anything, to relieve the too-much in his system. 

The darkness cloaked him as he threw his shoulder against the wall, just one thing in the long line of actions he had no beginning or end to.

He was so lucky to have Dream as his owner.

*** 

Light filtered into his home. With it, a breeze of fresh air that cut through his suffocating reserve. 

He kept his eyes down, trained on the dirt floor of his enclosure as he shuddered through a full-bodied twitch. Despite Dream’s orders to stop fidgeting a few days before, it soon became uncontainable; a part of him hoped Dream would do something about it, spare him some of his attention. 

“Holy fuck- Tommy.” 

That voice wasn’t Dream’s. 

An overwhelming majority of him wanted to snap his eyes up, to focus on the figure half obscuring the light. He kept his eyes down, mouth shut. 

If Dream found out about the visitor, he couldn’t give him more reason to let Tommy waste away. Staying still, staying quiet, not interacting - if he showed that he didn’t explicitly condone the visitor, it would show his loyalty to Dream. Maybe he would let him eat some meat. Maybe he would let him do something. 

The visitor dropped to their knees, approaching his side - he could barely hear the action from behind the wall of painful thrumming. 

“Tommy. Tommy, can you hear me? Tommy, please.” 

With the small amount of strength left, he failed to stifle his next twitch. He had to stay still, stay quiet, had to wait for Dream. 

His finger tapped twice on the dirt, too much intention behind the traitorous up-down. 

“Can I take that as a yes? Was that intentional?” The visitor exhaled shakily when his body tapped again. “Okay. Okay, Tommy. I’m going to get you out of here.” 

Suddenly, the static so close to his skin overflowed, blurring the edges of his vision and pouring down his ears. He vaguely heard the visitor address someone - he didn’t hear the contents of the words, could only extrapolate from the inflections - before they shuffled against the dirt. 

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” 

A careful arm squeezed between his back and the stone, a second threading under his knees.

He felt himself break. 

His jaw worked underneath his closed lips, an unspoken scream tearing his throat raw. Warmth - not searing in temperature yet far too intense - dissolved his skin and released wave upon poisonous wave of feeling. He felt his insides leak, his chest snap, his neck break underneath the straining outpour of everything that had built up. 

Physically, he felt himself go limp. As he slid through the tentative grip, he felt his eyes stutter close and his nerves writhe slightly. 

“Shit- sorry, sorry.” 

The hands readjusted, more firmly securing him against an armored chest. A silent spasm rocked through his body. Conflict - confusion as to whether he should fight or stay still - swallowed his melting mind and leaked away like sand. 

“Hey, Tommy,” The voice spoke hushedly as long steps pierced through his lungs. “Tommy. Can you open your eyes and look at me?” 

The very thought burned him. 

Fizzing numbness built up in the corners of his eyes, his teeth clenching against an unwitting cry. Against his volition, his head shook slightly. 

“Tommy, please. We’re- we’re outside right now, it isn’t dark,” The visitor pleaded. He let his head roll back - they immediately shifted to support higher up his back. 

Light - bright light, natural light - softly warmed his eyelids. 

His body opened his eyes for him. 

“There you are,” Techno said quietly, the flicking of his ears contrasting with the curdling in his skin. “Phil, he opened his eyes.” 

He winced, shivering terribly - the reminders of Dream overwhelmed him and suffocated any other thought he may have tried to formulate. Everything looked a touch too bright, a sliver too foreboding. 

“Hey, Tommy. It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re going to get onto a horse, okay?” 

Forcibly - with a panicked strength that came only from the fear of punishment - he squeezed his eyelids shut. 

“Phil- he, he closed his eyes again. Phil, I don’t know- should I ask him to talk? What do I do?” 

The thought elicited another violent shudder. 

“Hey, hey- okay mate, you don’t have to talk,” A new voice said, close to what remained of his ears. “Here, just- hand him over to me, then we can get him secured.” 

New hands came to hold him, hooking under his knees and pressing his front into another person’s chest - how he didn’t melt out of the hold, he didn’t exactly know. He let the waves of tingling discomfort crash over his head, allowed himself to be moved alongside the new person. Curled as much as he could and face resting against a shoulder, the piercing pain slowly lost its point. 

“Hey there bud. You’re doing great, you’re doing great,” The voice murmured, hands drilling circles into his back. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” A distant voice - Techno, he guessed - said. He couldn’t think of a reaction. 

“You and me both. Here- help me get him up, he’s practically unresponsive.” 

He felt himself be shifted onto solid leather, the material moving slightly underneath him. A part of him screamed to slip off, to go back to sitting in his dark enclosure; Dream had helped him all those years ago - he was even helping now - and he couldn’t imagine repaying Dream with such disloyalty. 

Dream wouldn’t like him being like this. Wouldn’t like him spreading his uselessness and poison onto any other person. 

A cold, solid stone settled into his chest. With it, unrivaled panic. 

He furiously began to struggle, forcing his entire body to go ragdoll before fighting back again. The hands held steady, shushing. Desperation built at the back of his throat, coated over the flats of his teeth - without any strength left, he had no chance of getting away. 

The voice talked quietly into his hair. Below him, his world began to quake. 

“You’re fine, it’s fine. You’re okay. Dream isn’t here. We’re bringing you home, okay? Back to Techno’s house. It’s- it’s going to be alright.” 

An anguished yell muffled behind his clenched jaw. 

His weak fists patted against unguarded shoulders, each movement fatigued and just barely landing. Hands continued to rub into his back - more firmly, more intent on keeping him steady; yet he couldn’t find the energy to let the touch brand his skin. 

Betraying warmth crawled from the touch. Comfort. 

Silently - with a mind unable to think and a heart unable to breathe - he felt the thick sludge he consisted of concentrate in his eyes and drip down his face. His face pressed into a warm chest, the cradling lightness only furthering his descent into completely shattering. The pieces of himself still whole refused to meld together. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re not with Dream anymore.” 

Through the haze of his own self his eyes opened, unheeding of the consequences of aiding an attack against his Dream. Blearily, his eyes glanced up. A jolting hand brushed the loose strands of his hair away. 

“Hey Tommy,” Phil said carefully, a tight smile against his lips. “We’re heading home.” 

One word played in his mind, repeating over and over and over.

It played against his lips, no noise giving life nor motion giving passion. It remained inside his head, just like every other. Just like himself. 

He stared up at the sun, the warmth, the burning touch and promise of home.

Maybe he could be human again. 

He closed his eyes and wished for darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure whether or not I'm going to make this the main storyline of this au (who knows, I might just make a bunch of disjointed one-shots lmao-) but uh, here it is- 
> 
> I'd genuinely love to know whether or not I should add a little sequel for this one/if it should be connected to the previous installment! 
> 
> Anyways happy new year here's to me not getting in my own way-


End file.
